In London I had a lovely Jura coffee machine and could make myself coffees all day. Sadly my coffee machine doesn’t work with the US lower wattage. Having finally found some decent coffee here in NYC (trust me, it’s not that easy) I’ve been nipping across the road to buy one whenever I felt like it. My man noticed how many coffees I’ve been drinking and accused me of being an addict. So I took him up on a bet that I was not an addict and could quit any time. Now two days later I still haven’t had a coffee.
I wake up each morning with brain fog that develops into a headache by the early afternoon. I’ve been such a grump that I think the man was ready to just buy me caffeine on a drip.
It was during my bout of brain fog this morning that I decided to skip up the street to Anya Hindmarch and buy a couple “I’m not a plastic bag” bags. After the UK hype it was launch day in the US.
Braving the thick New York humidity to march to Anya’s. I thought the golf-ball like raindrops would be a deterrent. Clearly not. When I got there the queue had wrapped around the building and was nearly back at the beginning again. I decided right there that despite an unread copy of the New Yorker under my arm I didn’t want a bag that badly.
On my march home I provided the perfect entertainment for a busload of Italian tourists and did a Marilyn Monroe as I dodged them and stepped on a grate just as a subway train was passing underneath. Luckily I had my nice panties on!
I rewarded myself for my efforts with a lovely, strong, milky coffee – decaf!
I wake up each morning with brain fog that develops into a headache by the early afternoon. I’ve been such a grump that I think the man was ready to just buy me caffeine on a drip.
It was during my bout of brain fog this morning that I decided to skip up the street to Anya Hindmarch and buy a couple “I’m not a plastic bag” bags. After the UK hype it was launch day in the US.
Braving the thick New York humidity to march to Anya’s. I thought the golf-ball like raindrops would be a deterrent. Clearly not. When I got there the queue had wrapped around the building and was nearly back at the beginning again. I decided right there that despite an unread copy of the New Yorker under my arm I didn’t want a bag that badly.
On my march home I provided the perfect entertainment for a busload of Italian tourists and did a Marilyn Monroe as I dodged them and stepped on a grate just as a subway train was passing underneath. Luckily I had my nice panties on!
I rewarded myself for my efforts with a lovely, strong, milky coffee – decaf!
I love this bag but i'm not willing to pay 200 for it on ebay and I live in australia, you should send me one I'll pay :)
ReplyDeleteMy housemate got her mitts on one of those bags and I must admit they look very cute. I really wish I had got one.
ReplyDelete